


Princess Perceptor

by SparkKisses



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Crack, M/M, Other, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 19:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkKisses/pseuds/SparkKisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Completely ridiculous and self-indulgent. Don't take this seriously in any capacity.</p>
<p>Reposted from livejournal.</p>
<p>For amidoh <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Princess Perceptor

            Once upon a time, there was a mech named Perceptor who was very very very very very very smart and could do science and stuff. But he was also monumentally unhappy, because he was the kingdom’s princess and princesses didn’t do science and such.

 

            “I say,” declared Perceptor in his manly British speaking voice, “I shall move with much haste away from this place, so that I may be enabled to perform science admirably and without restriction.”

 

            And so he did.

 

            Riding his robosteed sidesaddle and trailing ribbons everywhere, Perceptor traveled far from his kingdom’s crystal palace, across many a rolling metal hill and ruffians clangclanging in the wire bushes, until he was stopped by a barricade on the road and forced to take a conveniently placed sideroad. Because he was a sheltered princess he didn’t know better and rode along it until suddenly from above there dropped a gleaming mech bedecked with wings and scuff marks in equal measure.

 

            “Halt!” the mech called, a blaster pointed at Perceptor. “If you want to leave this forest alive, you’ll hand over your credits!”

 

            “What is the meaning of this?” the princess snapped peevishly, bristling with indignation. “And what’s more, I had already halted before you spoke; I certainly would not reward a half-wit for his idiocy, in any matter.”

 

            The mech, who was named Starscream, swooned.

 

            “On second thought,” he murmured. “How about just a good old-fashioned kidnapping?”

 

            “Never! How repugnant!”

 

            “Oh, I’m afraid you don’t have any choice in the matter, sweetspark.”

 

 

            As it turned out, Starscream was part of a band of thieves who preyed upon unwary travelers, the epitome of which was Perceptor, who squealed frightfully upon being lifted off his robosteed and carried off like so much cargo. Ignorant of Perceptor’s status as princess and taking him for merely a strange mech who enjoyed sparkles and ribbons, Starscream was obliged to take him before the group’s leader, Megatron, to make a claim.

 

            “See?” Starscream held up his arm. “He already bit me! I need reparations!”

 

            Megatron remained silently sipping his drink, gaze unwavering upon Perceptor. He knew of what the princess looked like, and this little shivering and furious mech, gagged and bound (for he kicked up much a fuss and screeched for release incessantly), matched the description perfectly.

 

            “I think you mean you need repairs,” he said at last, and Perceptor’s optics widened at the sound of his deep, strong voice so much like the rolling thunder that followed cannon fire at ceremonies.

 

            “What?” Starscream stumbled over his words, looking crestfallen. “No, I meant-“

 

            “Soundwave, escort Starscream to… wherever it is we do repairs in a forest.” Megatron motioned flippantly, optics still locked onto Perceptor. Starscream was dragged out of the room to the tune of multiple promises of death and pain.

 

            With that matter out of the way, Megatron grabbed Perceptor by the chin and examined him closely, much to the dismay and muffled protest of his subject. Up close, the tang of unpolished metal assaulted Perceptor’s olfactory sensors; the scent of an uncultured and unrefined ruffian.

 

            Much to Perceptor’s own confusion, he swooned and right then and there knew that he wanted his struts jumped by this rough mech.

 

            Megatron obliged with the most tender plug-and-play imaginable, far gentler than the ones bestowed by Perceptor’s personal knight Ultra Magnus, and more enjoyable. They clangclanged far into the night, and though Perceptor knew that he shouldn’t, he camed five times before it was all done.

 

            Upon the morning, Perceptor confessed that he was the princess and his reasons for being out on the road without escort in order to pursue his lifelong dream of doing science without his frilly skirts in the way all the time, to which Megatron pointed out were no longer a problem (the skirt in question lay crumpled on the floor) and also that he frankly did not give a damn. Perceptor thought it quite uncouth of him to not so much as add a “my dear”, and spent the rest of the morning in a snit that amused his captor to no end. It predictably ended with more caming and insincere protests.

 

            A dispatch was sent to the castle immediately, informing the court of Perceptor’s fate, and as it was described aloud just how thoroughly Megatron had made the princess scream his name, the court was forced to concede that if the missive were true, they must relinquish the throne to this Megatron, because they were dumbasses and couldn’t make Perceptor came as hard.

 

            So then Megatron sent them a video recording of him banging Perceptor across a desk while the smaller mech screamed for more. At the end of the 12 hour long video, Megatron hip-thrusted intimidatingly at the audience as if saying without words “give me power or there will only be more of this. Without end. In your mom.”

 

            And so Megatron was made ruler of the kingdom the next day.

 

            Perceptor was thus free to do all the science he liked, and forbidden from wearing skirts as they just got in Megatron’s way anyway. Megatron ruled the kingdom with an iron-titanium fist and when his kingly duties of executing the fuck out of unruly courtesans were done for the day, he retired to his chambers to bang Perceptor as tenderly as the first time they met, which was agreeable to Perceptor, and thus they lived the rest of their days quite happily.


End file.
